In the Shadows

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It is now time to look at what has always been obscured, what has always been blurred, ignored, brushed aside, overlooked, and shamed into oblivion. See what you have been leaving out of the picture.

Don’t just explore the obvious; look beyond to what is not immediately apparent, and in that space, you will find your healing.

❤xoxoxo The Empress xoxoxo❤

Midnight Stroker

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Ever get a profound urge to pleasure yourself right before bed, no matter how tired you are? No matter what time it is, and with little regard for how much sleep you will be sacrificing?

Sometimes that happens to me. So to be more present and creative, I will smoke a j and take a few mildly naughty photos of myself to whet my appetite. Sometimes the photos are a little more than mildly naughty.

Just the thought of objectifying myself for my own enjoyment delights me in ways I can’t explain. It feels like a deeply intimate act of self-love.

Some pictures, though. Some pictures I take of myself so surprise even me that I have no choice but to relinquish my camera to sudden indifference, and lose myself in… well, myself. Wink wink, nudge nudge. Say. No. More.

Why do you think there are only two photos in this series? Ahem…. I mean… dat ass doe.

❤xoxo❤

Boobs in the Snow… on New Year’s Day

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I woke up this morning with one thought in my head: today I am putting my boobs in the snow. So I strapped on my snowshoes and took to the trail.**Of course, I had coffee first. Then sex. Then a shower. A long hot one.I needed the right canvas: an inclined surface with a fresh coat of snow. Without an incline, I could fall arse over teakettle trying (failing) to keep my balance… hovering with my tits out over the snow.Why not play a bit beforehand… though. Hehe.Then I found my canvas on the side of the trail. Yes.So I present the imprint of my tits in the snow on New Year’s day. You’re welcome.Happy New Year! All the best in 2019!

A Nippy Day in the Woods

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I love to snowshoe in the winter. It is a favourite nordic passtime that allows me to exercise in a way that does not feel like exercise, and to commune with Mother Nature. I am a witchy pagan type and a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) so regular communion with Nature is an imperative for optimal functioning.

Today, I discovered that I also like stripping out of doors…

And freezing my tits off…

For the sake of art. And if you are wondering… it was worth it. Obviously. I mean… you can see my smile, can’t you?

It was also worth the scare of thinking that a fellow snowshoer or snowmobiler might discover me… and get a free show.

Not that I am charging anyone to see this one….

But lucky for me, I did not get caught. Worse luck next time… perhaps… 😈.

My Lips

erotic poetry

Certain family members always comment on my lips.

“You have your cousin Carol’s lips”, they would say.

“They are thin.”

So I always thought my lips were thin, because that is what I was told….

Two barely pink lines… that apparently belong to someone else.

But I think they are wrong about MY lips.

Not only do they belong to me, but they are kinda juicy and delicious. Maybe they aren’t very plump or pouty, but they are sumptuous and they are MINE.

Just Us and a Mirror

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When I’m alone… I’m never really alone. And I always have fun. Especially when mirrors are invited to my little parties. Mirrors are things I enjoy rather than fear.

Many women spend inordinate amounts of time in front of the mirror. But often for the wrong reasons.

They stare at their imperfections. Cursing them. Hating their bodies. Hating their own very essence. It’s true. It’s how we are taught to see ourselves. It’s heart-breaking.

But society is full of shit. It lies to us, ladies. It lies. All. The. Time. You see… we are perfect already. With our rolls, cellulite, unevenly sized titties, stretch marks and marks of other sorts, our luscious asses that jiggle when we walk, run… and fuck. We are perfect already. We have always been.

And we are beautiful. Our mirrors tell us every day how fucking delicious we are. We just need to start believing them… and not the lies we are fed from birth by society, by our families and friends, by other women, by men, by ourselves.

So start worshipping your own tastiness… in front of your biggest mirror… and un-tell yourself all of those lies.

Auto… Photo

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I enjoy taking photos of myself. Not in the selfie kind of way. Well, yeah I take selfies, but it’s about playing different roles as the photo becomes. It’s not for anyone else; it’s for me, that little photo. I choose to share it with you, but only after I share it with myself first.

I play different parts in each photo session: I am the photographer, honing my gaze on an object of one kind of attraction or another to capture a sublime moment of joy, passion, contentment, even sadness. I am the model, contorting my body or sprawling over a surface to create a vision of beauty or repulsion or desire or… whatever else. I am the audience, whose gaze upon the photo usually leads to a smile, a giggle, a tear, or perhaps even a wandering hand. I also play the critic, whose calculating and cutting evaluation of my many imperfections always makes itself known. The fucker.

Each role engages a facet of me. And they come out to play together once in a while. It’s an experience that creates a sense of wholeness within and without. And if you introduce a mirror, or another reflective surface of some sort, into the session, it seriously doubles the whole that I become.

Welcome to my Den of Weirdness, Words and Titties

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Sometimes… I want to rip all of my clothes off and burn them to cinders. In more temperate weather, they serve no other purpose than to further separate us from ourselves. From one another. Just another layer of separation. When my body is nude, my thoughts and feelings are too. I am more vulnerable and more prone to openness. Because I have nothing to hide behind. And when I’m open like this… I am very exposed. And I mean this in more than one way.

Anyway, enough waxing poetic for now. I plan on sharing stories, verses, fantasies, vignettes, dreams, hopes, desires and existential musings… along with a good dose of my semi-naked body. Because… carpe fucking diem. And I like taking pictures of my softness and my thickness. I am not ashamed to admit this; I am an enthusiastic partial “autosexual”. Look it up if you don’t know the term.

I hope you enjoy this adventure through the inner and outer dreamscape of my sexuality. Do come back to masturbate to something if you like. We’re all sex-positive adults over here, aren’t we? Until next time.